


Don't Stand So Close To Me

by orphan_account



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, you're... Uncomfy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25895032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alejandro's a flirt, and you're not. This makes you just a little bit uncomfortable.
Relationships: Alejandro Burromuerto/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Don't Stand So Close To Me

**Author's Note:**

> ok i wrote this while maybe not totally sober so if there are glaring errors i'm SORRY okay
> 
> i just love Alejandro sm :(

The sun was overbearing on your skin as you tried to scale the pyramid. Your fingers would often slide, deeply unsteady, across the various cracks and grooves atrophied by the sun and time, trying to find a safe place to dig into and hoist your body weight up. Chewing on your cheek, you felt the tugging of fabric, stuck to your skin by sweat.  
  
Almost there, you tell yourself, internal monologue quiet and soft like a church mouse. A deep breath expands your chest fully as you try to focus your eyes. The sun is making you go blind.  
  
"Let me help, _mariposa_."  
  
The sound of a voice is so startling you jump slightly and nearly trip, but not before a hand wraps around your wrist - tight enough to be secure, not tight enough to hurt - and pulls your weight up, effortlessly, as if you don't weigh a ton with gravity trying to drag you deep into the dusty sands.  
  
Your feet stumble over air as you are pulled atop the pyramid, overlooking the desert and that feels both beautiful and empty. If you screamed, nobody would hear, besides your fellow competitors, and maybe not even them. Your screams would simply fade into nothingness, becoming one with the sun and sand.  
  
"Isn't this better?"  
  
You forgot someone else was here.  
  
You turn your body towards him slightly, only to see him trying to burn his gaze directly into your pupils and burrow it down into your soul. You glance away quickly, a knot forming in your throat that you could hardly describe, much less undo. A gentle "thanks, Alejandro" tumbles from your mouth, as you try to focus on staying upright - a wave of tiredness heavier than God managed to crash into you as soon as he spoke.  
  
His hands brush against your arm briefly, and it makes you a special kind of uncomfortable. He is gone as soon as he appeared, the red of his shirt seeming to burn into your eyes, a distinct type of marker for a very distinct man.   
  
"The pleasure is all mine," his voice seems to sing as he climbs down the pyramid with an almost too-perfect grace. You follow suit, a slow clamor, trying to stay upright in an environment that seems to want nothing more for than you to tumble to the ground and bury yourself deep into the sand.

* * *

  
On the death-trap known as a plane, Alejandro is smart enough to wait a little before talking to you.  
  
"So," he starts, moving himself close enough to you that your skin rubs against his. You immediately put some distance between the two of you, feeling anxiety gnaw at the inside of your stomach. "What do you think of our team?" he begins, looking straight at you. You're not sure what emotion is in his eyes.  
  
"They're alright," is your automated response, hands sliding across your clothes, smoothing out any wrinkles. "I think we need more time to really see what they're made of, of course."  
  
His grin is so wide it seems to hint at something. "Well, I think you're our most valuable player."   
  
You blink a few times. It seems to take a few heartbeats before you can comprehend what he actually said.  
  
"Oh, uh... thank you. That's very sweet of you to say..." your voice trails off, unintentionally, but you smile to make up for it. In truth, you don't really believe what he's saying but you don't really care either way. Flattery is, more likely than not, his way of trying to make sure you won't throw him off the plane. He's not on your radar, so it doesn't even matter.  
  
"It's just the truth." His hand on your leg makes you jump in a way that makes him pull back and look _almost_ apologetic.

* * *

  
The Yukon manages to give you another extreme as the cold seems to work its way into your bones. You shiver and run your hands over your exposed skin, trying to soothe yourself and generate warmth while listening to whatever the hell Chris is talking about. It doesn't really work, but you get points for trying.  
  
Alejandro appears, of course. He offers, very generously, to hold you, and a small part of you wants to say "yes" and curl up into his chest and feel the warmth of his blood and the steady rhythm of his heart, but the larger part of you stops yourself. There is a certain - for lack of a better term - _vulnerability_ that would come with that, and you're not quite ready to give it.  
  
"No, thank you," you whisper, voice shaking, trying to smile even though your face feels numb. Your decision earns you a simple, fleeting "suit yourself" while he goes off to canoodle (or something) with Bridgette.

* * *

  
The tone of your interactions is always the same, a silent dance that both of you have engraved into your very bones, it seems.   
  
He says/does something flirtatious. You respond in a sorta-not-really-positive-but-not-really-negative-although-Alejandro-you-really-should-stop way, and the conversation ends.  
  
Or it usually did. Alejandro, one day, decides to break the spell.  
  
He won a challenge and decided to bring you to first class with him, which made you anxious because you knew he'd probably be using the action as a bargaining chip of sorts - who wouldn't? So, after enjoying the first-class food that admittedly lived up to its name, you sat in a plush seat with your spine straight and waited for him to drop the bomb. When he sits next to you, he does.  
  
"You're very evasive," he begins, fingertips drifting over your wrist. "I'd never imagine you the type to play hard to get." You instinctively pull your hand away, drawing it towards your chest.  
  
"I'm not!" you blurt out, far too loud, almost like your volume button is broken or something. You clear your throat and begin again, voice quieter. "I'm just... not the flirty type." Nervously, your hands tap the edges of your seat, just beside your legs, and you feel as if you're missing out on some big thing, like he understands The Bigger Picture involved in this and you don't. You bite your lip.  
  
Alejandro's response is initially nothing more than a muted "mhm", after which he becomes briefly contemplative, but he quickly smiles again, looking straight into your eyes like he loves to do. You avert your eyes like you love to do.  
  
"Well. I think that we could both benefit from an alliance of some type together..." he mumbles, voice suddenly lower, and it makes you tense. You take a deep breath and weigh your options.  
  
If you say yes, you could get screwed over. If you say no, you could get screwed over. _Shit_.  
  
Once again, a part of you wants to embrace it. Say "yes" and curl up and lean into his chest and be with him and be warm, and let the feeling of being safe and taken care of seep slowly into you - but you don't. You know better.   
  
"Could... could you let me think about it?" is your answer, and you try to pitch your voice up to sound sweeter than normal. _Please God give me more time to think,_ your silent internal prayer goes.  
  
"Alright, kitten." He's got a coy grin and he stands up, briefly stretching his legs out before walking off, somewhere you can't see him.  
  
You'll contemplate all this after a nice nap.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i might write more TD stuff might not idk


End file.
